Only the Sound

I used to be mystified by whale-shaped volcanoes.

Now, I know it’s all just so much razzle-dazzle,

a certain belching of acid or fire, a little rumble

shaking us up toward our only glimpse of sky.

Sometimes I think our whale volcano might be

on a birthday cake, white frosting under our feet

if only we could dig far enough. If only we had

any inclination, or enough shovels. Sometimes

I think we’re all alone, and there’s no such thing

as birthdays. Only saltwater. Only lava. Only

the sound of our own breath, repeating.


2 thoughts on “Only the Sound

  1. What the??? It appears that my new friend Ryu here will only display in its pretty typeface if I type in the WordPress window, and if I copy and paste, it uses a yucky one? Oh, this is not cool, Ryu. Nooooot cool. I’m going to figure this out later, but in the meantime, here’s the poem for NaPoWriMo, Day 1.

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